A White Rose
by criminally charmed
Summary: A future fic. One of the team returns to say goodbye and learns they were never forgotten.


**A White Rose**

_**Disclaimer - Do not own Criminal Minds. There would be a lot more Reid stories if I did. And I maintain I don't write death fics. It's a future fic - no one lives forever.**_

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><p><strong>Arlington Cemetery – 2044<strong>

She approached the newly covered grave slowly, a single white rose clutched in her shaking right hand, while an equally shaking left hand softly touched the temporary marker.

_**Spencer Edmund Reid**_

_**1981-2044**_

"I never thought I would be doing this," Emily Prentiss whispered. "I never thought I would be visiting your grave, Reid."

Emily had waited in the shadows of a nearby cluster of trees, watching as the mourners had gathered for the simple internment. Spencer Reid's remains, along with those of his wife who had died only a few months earlier, had been placed in the ground. An American flag had been folded and handed to a woman dressed in black, two men on either side of her.

In the gathered crowd, Emily had recognized many of the faces. Older, heart-broken faces, but ones she knew all too well. JJ and Will…Aaron Hotchner. Could that be little Jack Hotchner now an adult and standing next to the woman who had been given the flag? There was Derek Morgan and Dave Rossi, along with Penelope – no way, was that Kevin with her still?

Here and there, Emily recognized people from cases, people Spencer Reid had helped save. They too had never forgotten the gentle young man with the amazing mind.

"A white rose, Reid," Emily said softly as she laid the single flower among the multitude of floral tributes. "If you were here, you would tell me it means "I am worthy of you". Funny – I don't feel worthy."

"But he would have never said that," a new voice said.

Emily whirled, automatically moving into a defensive mode. To her shock, the young woman – her face obscured by a short, black lace veil dropping from a pill box hat – chuckled.

"Let me guess – FBI, right?"

Nodding dumbly, Emily watched in silence as the woman adjusted her rose among the other flowers. The former FBI agent said nothing while the woman remained kneeling in front of the grave, her gloved hand moving the flowers as if looking for a symmetry that was missing in her eyes. Finally, she stretched a bit which was when it became obvious the younger woman was pregnant.

"You shouldn't be kneeling like that," Emily exclaimed, taking her companion by the arm.

Chuckling again, the woman stood, shaking her head. "You are as bad as the terrific trio."

"Who?" Emily asked in confusion.

"Jack Hotchner, Henry Lamontagne and Nicholas Reid. At times, I was to scream at them. Especially Nick. If only to remind him that I am his older sister – not a younger one."

Emily sucked in her breath. She knew Reid had married, but to actually meet one of his children? Before Emily could recover from her shock, the woman raised her veil.

In front of her now were Spencer Reid's eyes – red from crying, clearly heart-broken – but still the eyes that had haunted and comforted Emily in the years of her self-imposed exile from those she had considered family more than any of her own blood.

Gesturing towards the woman's face, Emily stuttered, "Um, you, um have -"

"I have his eyes," she sighed before smiling a bit. "Mainly, I look like – Mom," she stumbled, the pain of her mother's death having been reawakened by her father's.

Emily looked at the younger woman carefully. The one picture that she had seen – Emily suspected JJ had smuggled it to her – from Reid's wedding had been the team gathered for a "family photo". She did indeed resemble the laughing young woman that Spencer Reid had been holding possessively, if tenderly, to his side. But the eyes were definitely Reid's, along with the hands…those long fingers that had offered such a gentle touch.

"Nick looks a lot more like Dad…"

Smiling at the woman, Emily asked, "Our you and your brother both, um -"

"Above average intelligence?" Reid's daughter shrugged. "I suppose we would be considered that. Although Nick is like Dad with the memory thing."

She chuckled before she continued. "I wonder how Dad would have reacted to how many people wanted to remember him? People through the FBI, people at Georgetown where he taught after he left the Bureau…"

Seeking to change the subject, Emily gestured to the younger woman's stomach. "Would this have been his first grandchild?"

"No," Reid's daughter sighed. "I have a two year old daughter and Nick's wife, Shannon, is due in just a few weeks. She is on bed rest, or else she would have been here today."

Touching her extended stomach, she smiled. "I wanted to name our daughter Haley Spencer Reid-Hotchner, but Dad vetoed that idea." Laughing – the sound painfully reminding Emily of Reid even more – she continued.

"But I sat with him in the ICU and told him that the doctor said this was a boy. And this was Spencer Aaron Reid Hotchner, like it or not. Dad just smiled. Then he looked past me, whispered mom's name and – and he was gone."

A tear ran down her face while Reid's daughter explained. "Dad always said we should choose our children's names based on what we wanted for them in life. Grandma Reid wanted Dad to love the written word. Mom use to tease Dad she wanted Nick named that because of Christmas. Like we didn't know it was her father's name. And I was named for someone hoped I be like – compassionate, brave and honorable."

Touching Reid's daughter on the shoulder, Emily smiled. "I think his wish was fulfilled."

"Thank you," she murmured, worrying her lower lip in an attempt to stop further tears from escaping. Then the younger Reid looked at Emily, her eyes narrowing for a moment before they widened.

"Do you know the shape and size of our eyes are set at birth? It's why so many children have such a wide-eyed look."

The words reminded Prentiss so much of the way Reid would casually toss out a fact the way most people discussed the weather, she was speechless for a moment. Before she could think of a response, a new voice called out.

"Emily!"

Both women turned to see Jack Hotchner rapidly approaching. Reid's daughter turned back to Prentiss.

"You better go. He was young but he may still recognize you."

Emily Prentiss quickly left as Emily Reid-Hotchner moved towards her husband.

"Em, what are you doing back here?" Jack asked, putting an arm around his wife in concern.

"I just wanted to talk to an old friend of Dad," Emily explained as she tried to pull him away from the grave, her quick mind trying to distract him. Looking up at the clouds that had taken over the sky during the afternoon, Emily smiled.

"Remember when I was five, and you tried to tell me thunder was just angels bowling?"

"And you corrected me and began to explain in precise meteorological terms," Jack laughed, "exactly how thunder and lightning really worked."

"Why did you put up with me?" Emily asked.

"Advance payback," Jack sighed. "For agreeing to be the wife of an FBI agent."

"Says the husband of a surgeon," Emily laughed as she buried her head in Jack's shoulder.

Jack gave her a one-armed hug as they began to finally move away from the fresh grave, before kissing the top of her head. Thinking of the tall, lean man who had always been a part of his life, Jack smiled. Her height was another thing Emily had definitely taken from her mother and not her father. His musing came to a halt when Emily paused in front of a cluster of trees and began to speak.

"Do you ever wonder if you make your mother proud?"

Jack froze for a moment before he answered. "Every day. But I am certain she would have wanted me to be happy. And you and Haley and Spence here," he rubbed her baby bump, "make me happy."

Emily nodded before looking past his shoulder to where she was sure Emily Prentiss was still watching.

"And the rest of our rather strange family? They've been happy, haven't they?"

Frowning, Jack answered unsurely, not understanding why Emily was asking.

"You know they are. They're pretty upset with your parents being gone, but having you and Nick, plus the kids, is helping them deal."

Emily smiled and took her husband's hand, letting his lead her away from the grave holding her parents' earthly remains.

From the shadow of the tree, Emily Prentiss let her tears freely flow. Her family was safe; they had been happy, leading good lives, blessed with children as special as they were. Her sacrifice had been worth it.

A year later, under the pretense of planting of small bush at her parents' grave – and had THAT taken some doing in a government cemetery – Emily Reid-Hotchner buried the small box of ashes that had been directed to her from the State Department. Although the box had no name on it, Emily knew that the woman she had been named for would want to be buried with family.

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><p><em><strong>This popped into my head and wouldn't go away. Hope you like. I gotta get back to torturing Thunderbirds now. - CC<strong>_


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